Our Deepest Pleasure
by I'mJustTwisted
Summary: Big Time Rush isn't all what it seems to be. Within this tight-knit group of childhood friends lie secrets, some dark, some deadly, some just plain weird, and some forbidden by almost every human culture in the world. As the four struggle to control their new urges, they learn from a strange source that fighting the very things they are will destroy everything they know.
1. Summary

Big Time Rush isn't all what it seems to be. Within this tight-knit group of childhood friends lie secrets, some dark, some deadly, some just plain weird, and some forbidden by almost every human culture in the world. James struggles to control an obsession that has plagued him for centuries, one that could very well mean certain death for a lot of people. Logan fights a losing battle against a side of him he thought was long gone, now brought to life by his closest friend. Kendall starts having weird feelings for somebody he shouldn't, feelings he thought he had taken care of. And Carlos... Well, let's just say that Carlos just isn't all there and isn't as innocent as he seems to be. As each battles their inner beast and a seemingly uncontrollable dark side, their girlfriends discover just why they should give in and how if they keep resisting, it will destroy everything they've ever known.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One: A Not-So-Innocent Beginning

Secrets are as much a part of life as birth and death. From the time you first begin to realize how the world works until the day you die, secrets will be kept and revealed. Everybody keeps their fair share of secrets in their lifetime, some worse or more than others, but they keep them all the same.

Kendall's PoV

BEEP! BEEP!

My alarm blared, ripping my amazing dream away from me and forcing me to wake up. I opened my eyes slowly, letting them adjust to the harsh sunlight streaming through my window. Groaning quietly, I covered my eyes with my hand and rolled over to face the wall. I desperately wanted to go back to sleep and continue my dream. I recognized that voice from somewhere, but it didn't really matter. Deep down, I knew that that melodious voice belonged to my mate, and tonight, I was gonna find her and make her mine forever. But, just as I was on the verge of drifting back to sleep, my best friend and roommate, 19 year old Logan Mitchell, began shaking my shoulder. "Kendall, you need to wake up!" He growled in a fruitless attempt to sound dominate. Sometimes I really wish Katie would keep her big mouth shut. Ever since she explained to the guys how werewolves such as myself work and think and live, they've been trying to act wolfish too, but only James, the cockiest and most mysterious member of our little group, had managed to be an even half way decent werewolf. I easily shook his hand off my shoulder and snuggled back into my blankets, sighing contentedly. I knew that Logan, being a human, didn't have either the strength or the nerve to make me do anything I didn't want to do, and I didn't want to get up. I could care less what Gustavo wanted us to do today. Logan groaned, obviously fed up with me, and stormed out of the room. Just when I thought that I had won, who but James should come into the room. I didn't have to see or hear him to know that he was there. I could smell him from a mile away. I wrinkled my nose at the overly strong scent of his Cuda manspray, wondering why he had to spray so much of it on him that it nearly completely covered his natural scent. Too be completely honest, I don't think I have ever smelled anything but his manspray on him. "Kendall, get up." James ordered, the power in his voice sending chills down my spine. How on Earth does he do that? Only a werewolf or a really old vampire could ever manage to get that much power and control in their voice, and he only started attempting to do this a week ago!

Choosing to ignore him as well, I stayed right where I was, only to be lifted out of bed and thrown over James' shoulder. "Oh come on, James!" I groaned, my dirty blonde hair falling messily over my eyes as he carried me out of the room. "It's my birthday. I don't want to spend it at the damn studio!" I growled, trying to wiggle my way out of the taller boy's grip, only for it to tighten to an almost bone-crushing tightness. "UGH!" I groaned as he dropped me in front of the bathroom where Carlos was just emerging, his usual happy-go-lucky grin plastered to his face. I crossed my arms over my chest and glared up at James, who towered over me, shaking his head. "It's only a half-day, Kendall. You'll have plenty of time to spend with Jo." He said for the millionth time since Gustavo made his announcement yesterday. Half day or not, I didn't want to go in to the studio, especially not by myself. I didn't like Gustavo even when the rest of the guys were there. And it wasn't Jo who I planned on spending time with, but I wasn't gonna tell him that. I already knew that the devious, easily provoked, jealousy-prone cheater I actually had the greatest displeasure of calling my girlfriend for the last 3 years was not my mate. If she was, I'd kill myself. "I don't care. I'm not going." I growled, baring my canines at him, my eyes flashing a bright neon yellow. James was unfazed by my aggressiveness and turned to head back down the hall, disappearing into me and Logan's room for a few minutes before returning with some clothes.I could tell by their smell that they were the decidedly dressier clothes that Jo bought me that I hardly ever wore. I raised an eyebrow in question, getting to my feet. "You're not wearing those sorry-ass jeans and dumb plaid button-up tees today, Kendork." He said sternly as he shoved the clothes at me. Ever since WayneWayne called me Kendork when Big Time Rush was first getting started, people have called me by it right and left, and I fucking hate it.

I glared at James and opened my mouth to argue, but before I could say a single word, I caught my mate's scent. It was subtle, meaning she was just barely a teen, about 12-13 years old, definitely female; a dreamy mix of caramel, sugar, and spices with just a hint of green apple. I was vaguely aware of James and Logan trying to talk to me, but I didn't care. My mate was here, in this very apartment! I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath to try and pinpoint her location, before slowly opening my eyes, their color changing from yellow to black. "Mate." I moaned, my inner wolf going bezerk. I dropped the clothes and followed the mouth-watering scent. My mom greeted me from the kitchen with a cheery good morning but I ignored her. All that mattered know was finding my mate and marking her. I stopped at the swirly slide, taking another deep breath to make sure I was going the right way. I quickly ducked inside the yellow plastic slide and climbed up to the second level where Mom and Katie's bedrooms and bathroom were. I closed my eyes, trying to reach her with my mind, but to no avail, meaning she was human. Opening my eyes, I started down the hall. The sound of the upstairs shower running reached my ears, along with the sound of Katie singing to herself. I loved listening to her sing, which wasn't very often. She seemed convinced that her voice was terrible, despite how many times I tried to prove otherwise. If any of us were a terrible singer, it would definitely be me. I put my ear to the door, unable to resist listening in, and closed my eyes. My wolf howled at the sound of her melodious voice. I could see the huge pitch black beast pacing and panting in my mind's eye. I opened my eyes, my thick eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. My wolf never acted like this before. I mean, it was only Katie. I stepped back away from the door and leaned up against the wall, half-tempted to go back downstairs. My mate wasn't up here, it was only my wiser-beyond-her-years preteen sister. But still the scent bombarded my nose, even stronger now, and it came from behind the closed bathroom door. I shook my head, refusing to believe that Katie was it, that my flesh-and-blood sister was my mate, the one I was destined to be with, the one who would carry my pups. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hardly noticed Katie emerging from the bathroom until she gave me a hug. "Happy 18th birthday, big brother." She said cheerily. I looked down at her and smiled, gently stroking her damp hair before burying my face in it. The smell of her green apple shampoo was like heaven, sending my wolf into a frenzy. I pulled away from the little brunette and knelt down so I could look her in the eyes. The only way I would know for sure if she were, in fact, the one was to look her in the eyes. Black met hazel and, in an instant, I knew she was the one. "Kendall," Katie said, her voice wary, "why are you looking at me like that?"

I mentally debated whether I should tell her or not, and decided to tell her that night at my party, when I could make her mine without interruption. "I'll tell you tonight, little sister." I said, giving her a soft smile before getting back to my feet. I kissed her on top of the head, inhaling her sweet scent, before leaving her alone. Of all the people in the world, who knew that my mate would be my sister?


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: Logan's Secret

Logan's PoV

I breathed a sigh of relief as Kendall washed and left without another fight. Mrs. K left with James, Carlos, and Katie to plan Kendall's party with the leaders of the werewolf pack hosting his party, leaving me all alone for the next four hours. I looked around the empty apartment, trying to decide what to do. There was plenty of homework and studying that I needed to do if I ever wanted to pass the medical exam and get into med school. Camille was available so maybe I could take her out for a movie or something. I sighed, my indescisive nature making it nearly impossible to decide what I wanted to do more. Giving up, I decided to stay in my room. I walked down the hall toward Kendall and I's shared bedroom, passing by several family pictures and pictures of us boys as we grew up. I stopped in front of one photo of us when we were 9. I stared deep into the shining eyes of my younger self, eventually spotting the minute thing that would ruin my life if it were ever discovered on my present skin or if someone decided to take a long, close look at ths picure. We had just won our first hockey match with an international team. I had scored the winning goal and the guys were lifting me on their shoulders. Unknown to everyone, even the ever observant Mrs. Knight, was that my sleeve had sld down low enough on my arm to reveal the faint, still red and raw cuts on my wrist. I sighed, rolling up my sleeve to reveal the selfsame cuts, now long faded into barely visible scars.

I kept them hidden using makeup, a trick I learned from my gay cousin when I was 12, mostly to avoid being questioned. I didn't want to have to face them and tell them the truth I had so desperately tried to forget. I didn't want to explain how sick I had been then, how twisted my young mind had been, or how I had brutally lost my innocence at such a young age. My past and what happened when I was at home was something that was better left untold and forgotten. Of course, after being discovered by my mother when I was 11, cutting myself in places most people would never even consider putting a knife, she dragged me to mental hospital and wouldn't let me out until I was "cured". I squeezed my eyes shut, remembering the one and only time I felt the touch of another human being in the way that Kendall and James so often took advantage of. They were lucky. Kendall had Jo, a girl who was cazy for him, and even though James didn't have a steady girlfriend, he was rarely without a partner. Maybe that was why I was the way I was. The only time I really felt alive or, dare I say it, loved was when I was being brutally raped and beaten by my drunk uncles. It didn't make sense. They took something that should have been mine to give to somebody I loved, and they made me feel like shit in the process, and yet, I enjoyed it. I opened my eyes, running my fingers through my short-cropped black hair, before shaking my head. It didn't make sense and I was being stupid thinking about it. There was no way I was gonna let myself go down that dark path again. Besides, it was Kendall's 18th birthday. Tonight he'd find his mate, mark her, and live happily forever, raising a little werewolf family of his own. In that moment, I was jealous of the blonde.

I wasn't what you would call a jealous person, but I had trouble not being jealous when it came to the always likable and looked up on Kendall Knight. Gustavo liked him, girls adored hm, guys wanted to be him. He was the modern day Superman, everyone's white knight in shining armor. He was always had the happy endings and never did anything that could blemish his perfect image as the good boy and his perfect reputation for being the fearless leader. I highly doubted that a single iota of it was true. Everyone had their secret and so did Kendall. I sighed, shaking my head again, scolding myself for thinking badly of the one who has been nothing but nice to me. I tore myself away from the picture and disappeared into my room. I dug through my closet in search of one of my sciene fiction novels that I read during a summer reading course when we were 10. I yanked my leather jacket out and threw it on the bed, hearing the loud clanking of metal hitting wood. I froze, my fingers just inches from my desired book, slowly turning to see what fell out of my jacket. Staring at me was the 10-inch stainless steel, never dull pocket knife my dad gave me when I was 6, ironically the morning after my encounter with my perveted uncles. I could see the blood stains tainting its silvery surface, a screaming reminder of my sick years and twisted curiousty. I had completly forgotten about it after my stay at Newtown Mental Hospital, having locked it away in a lockbox and shoved it in the back of my closet. "How did you get in my jacket?" I wondered out loud, slowly kneeling to pick it up. I closed my fingers over the cold metal knife and stood up, opening the long blade. The blood stains never came out, despite my many attempts at cleaning it. Not that it mattered. Mother didn't know about the pocket knife. She just knew about the kitchen knife. I winced at the memory of that morning. It wasn't one by any means.

My mind wandered, and almost as if I were in a daze, I sat on the edge of my bed and rolled up my right sleeve, taking a deep breath before dragging the sharp blade over my smooth skin, a thin trail of crimson blood bright against my pale skin. I couldn't help but moan as the pain shot up my arm from the cut. Once, twice, three times more I dragged the blade across my skin, enjoying the feeling of being in pain. I leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. What was I doing? Logic kicked in and I bolted upright, cursing myself as I ran out of the room and into the bathroom, quickly turning on the cold water and rinsing my arm off. I was such an IDIOT! I knew all too well how addicting the pain became, always pushing me further until I started doing some really stupid and dangerous shit to myself. Not to mention that very little made it past Kendall, Mrs. Knight, or Katie now. I rinsed the cuts off until the water ran clean. I scrambled for a towel that wouldn't be missed and gently dried my arm off. I dug around for bandages and other things to clean the cuts, disinfecting it and wrapping it tightly. I pulled my sleeve down and cleaned up every trace of blood that I could find. I sighed, staring at myself in the mirror. "You can't fight who you are, Logan. Not forever. Somehow, somebody is going to find out. What then?" I asked to noone but myself. In truth, I didn't have the answer. Little did I realize just how soon my secret would be discovered or how quickly things would spiral until there was no turning back ever again.


End file.
